


You Moron

by entishramblings



Series: LOTR/TH One-Shots (character x reader) [9]
Category: The Hobbit, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, lotr - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Graphic Violence, Nudity, Spicy, Violence, War, hella spice, no actual smut, read at your own descension i suppose?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entishramblings/pseuds/entishramblings
Summary: (Y/N) is a dúnedain Ranger who is acquainted with Aragorn. Things get spicyyyy.
Relationships: Aragorn/Reader, aragorn x reader
Series: LOTR/TH One-Shots (character x reader) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042788
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	You Moron

(Y/N) couldn’t tell if the loud echo that followed her was from her heart or the stomping orcs on her tail. But there was one thing she knew for sure, she wouldn’t be able to outrun them forever—not at this rate at least. She sprinted in the dense forest, weaving and twisting her way between tall trees and broken branches. Her tangled locks had come loose long ago from the braid that normally held them taught, but she cared not for fear had taken hold. Her breath was heavy and cheeks flushed as she desperately inhaled the cold autumn air; nevertheless, hot adrenaline flooded through her blood while her leather boots slammed into the hardened soil. (Y/N)’s fingers gripped the hilt of her steel sword tightly before she sent a side glance at the man sprinting approximately twenty feet to her left. He caught her eye and dipped his head slightly, signaling that he too had the same thought. Without hesitation she spun on her feet and swung her steel hard.

The world seemed to exist at a slower pace as (Y/N)’s blade cut through the neck of the first vile beast. But as soon as the loud thud of the bleeding corpse sounded, time snapped back quickly—like a stick braking under a well worn boot.

The female dúnedain ducked as a rusted scythe came at her head. She spun quickly and kicked the creature’s feet out from under him. His ugly form thudded loudly into the rigid soil, but that did not deter him. The orc snarled in anger, reached up with his weapon, and slashed at her midsection. (Y/N) jumped back instantly, but she was a little too late to be completely clear of the blow. A quiet hiss escaped her throat for the blade had just nicked her hip— _could’ve been worse_ she supposed, but it still infuriated her. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes and growled at him before ramming her foot onto his chest, knocking him back down. Without hesitation, she imbedded her blade into the beast’s heart. Black blood squirted and sprayed into her face but she cared not—it was war. The young warrior ripped her weapon from the orc’s body just in time to clash blades with yet another. Their arms battled for dominance until one gave way—and it wasn’t hers.

(Y/N) cut through orc after orc, not faltering once. It wasn’t long until there was only one enemy left, which was currently being taken care of by her comrade. She watched for a moment as the two danced around each other’s blades, careful not to get cut. She exhaled a frustrated breath for such cautiousness took too long. The art of death should be quick at the very least.

(Y/N) bit her lip while debating whether to assist him or not. Surely he would be annoyed if she did, but there no time for dillydallying. The young woman sprinted straight towards the creature. She leaped up onto its shoulders from behind and roughly yanked its scraggly hair. With the beast’s head pulled back, she slash across his throat—black blood spraying onto the male ranger before her. As the limp corpse began to cripple, (Y/N) twisted her body and flipped over the creature, summer-saluting to ease her fall. When she looked up from her position on the ground, she was met with raised eyebrows and crossed arms.

“I had it.”

(Y/N) shrugged, “Sure you did, Strider.”

The male in front of her rolled his grey eyes before taking her hand and pulling her back to her feet.

“Come. The rest of the Dúnedain Rangers will be waiting for us in the village.”

**…….**

By the time the two arrived, the sun was setting and a hot meal was waiting for them. Eager to fill their bellies and receive some warmth, they scampered to collect a bowl of stew and sit by the fire. There they ate, settling in their own thoughts.

The moon soon took the place of the sun and the stars replaced the clouds. It was then when most of the Rangers and their families sauntered off to their warm beds in their cozy cabins. (Y/N), on the other hand, went a different direction—one that involved cleaning the vile blood from her form.

She trekked beyond a small stretch of forestry—not too far from the village—and began to weave her way down the rocky twists of a cliff. At the bottom, encased in the crevices of large boulders and tall trees, was a hidden space of warmth and comfort: hot springs. These magnificent steamy pools and hot waterfalls were not known to many, including the Rangers. It was well hidden. And of course, (Y/N) did not dare disclose the location for if she did, the only bit of privacy she knew would be taken.

A soft smile crossed her face as she made her way towards the back. Tucked against smooth dark stone was a shallow pool in which a warm flow of water spewed from above.

(Y/N) offered a quick glance behind her into the thicket of trees before proceeding to take off her boots and strip her clothing.

**…..**

By the time Aragorn had finished his meal, (Y/N) was not to be seen. Not that it really mattered for she was her own person and likely went back to her cabin to clean up and rest. Aragorn, however, decided to go to a secret enclosure that he had found years ago. But when he walked into the lush area, his lips parted in surprise for it was already occupied.

(Y/N) stood under the hot cascading liquid, her back facing him. Aragorn watched in awe as the young woman ran her hands through her soapy, wet, locks of hair. The gorgeous strands tumbled down her back like the beads of water that dashed across her shoulders. But that was not all he was mesmerized by. Trails of liquid continued to race across her smooth skin, curling and turning with her form. The once clear droplets, now grey with dirt and grim, were hasty to enter the cleansing pool once more. Aragorn’s eyes continued to wander further down. He observed as the steaming water waded around her hips, hiding the rest of her body. But still, her beauty could not be completely concealed.

Slowly, Aragorn took a step forward, and another, and another. He unlaced his boots and pulled off his shirt and trousers. A smirk ghosted across the features of his face when a mischievous thought came to his mind—he grabbed a silver dagger.

Ever so quietly, he eased into the hot pool of water. He cautiously crept up behind (Y/N) and snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her body against his. The sound of a light gasp of surprise met his ears, which only encouraged the male ranger more. Aragorn then moved his other hand, with the small knife, to her throat. (Y/N)’s body immediately stiffened.

He brought his lips to her ear, his hot breath making her skin tingle. “What is this? A Ranger, caught off her guard?” He asserted in a whisper.

The tension in (Y/N)’s posture lessened at the sound of a familiar voice. A light chuckle bellowed from her throat as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, exposing her neck even more.

“ _Strider_ …how did you find me?”

Aragorn shook his head slightly and pressed the blade against her skin just a little harder, yet still careful not to hurt her. “Ah-uh,” he responded in a teasing tone.

A frustrated groan escaped her lips, “Oh, _come on_. I was very sure I was not followed.”

Yet another grin stretched across the man’s face, but he gave in to her request of truth, “It was actually a coincidence. I thought I was the only one that knew of this place.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Well, you were wrong.”

“And it seems that you were as well, for I can see you thought this place was your own.”

The woman sighed once more, “So I suppose we will have to share it then.”

Aragorn hummed, “I suppose so.”

Strider lowered the knife and tossed it onto the nearby stone ledge. Even so, he continued to clutch (Y/N)’s form against his own and she leaned into him further. They stood there, under the warm flow of the waterfall, basking in the peaceful moment. Unthinkingly, he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. His palm began to edge across her curves as he drank in the smell of lavender upon her skin. It wasn’t until his hand brushed against something raised and rigid that he became alert once again. Still holding her back to his chest, he peaked to see just what he had touched. Aragorn’s gaze landed on a bright red slash upon her hip.

“(Y/N), what is this?” He demanded.

The young woman immediately stiffened and brushed off his hand. She pulled away from his grasp, not daring to face him. “It is nothing.”

“(Y/N), don’t lie to me. You go hurt today while battling the orcs, didn’t you?”

She huffed, “No I didn’t—“

The young dúnedain woman was interrupted by the male ranger grasping her wrist and spinning her around.

Silence whispered upon the steam between them as the two realized just what that action had revealed.

(Y/N) sucked in a deep breath as she stood before him, completely exposed.

Aragorn could not stop his eyes from wandering over her body. Her chest rose and fell as she starred back at him, unsure shock dripping off her facial features. The male ranger’s lips parted in complete speechlessness. He froze as the bend of her breasts and perkiness of her pink nipples commanded his attention. Yet his eyes did not stop studying her there. Her stomach moved with her breaths as well, showing off her abs which were well toned from the countless hours of training and killing. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that the water concealed the rest.

Gradually, Aragorn stepped towards her, until there was almost no space between them. Their eyes were locked in a soft hold. When she did not give any negative indication, he placed his hands on the indent of her waist. Slowly, he lowered himself downward. His warm breath crept upon her skin as his face passed between her breasts and down her abdomen. He continued until his eyes were at her bellybutton. The Ranger then changed his focus to the cut on her hip. He let his fingers trail over it lightly while he examined it. The cut didn’t appear deep, but it was almost three inches large. It was rough and already beginning to scab over.

“Does this hurt?” He questioned softly.

“No,” she breathed out.

Strider continued to survey it. “It does not look infected and I doubt it will need stitches. But as a healer, I suggest you keep it wrapped and clean so it does not reopen.”

Aragorn looked up at her cautiously, waiting for a response. His grey eyes locked onto her as small trails of steamy water (from the waterfall) ran down her form and pebbled off her breasts. It dripped down onto his face, but he didn’t care. To him, time seemed to stretch forever.

Within seconds, (Y/N) drew her teeth across her bottom lip. And at that moment, Aragorn he knew his hands had begun to shake. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

Without hesitation, he stood quickly and his hand flung around her waist. The other cupped her cheek as he roughly pressed his lips against hers. She responded instantly and their mouths messily molded together as desire overtook them. (Y/N) felt the rush of helpless thirst flood her as her form folded against his—inviting his warmth to infected her. Skin against skin. Breath against breath. Aragorn clutched her uninjured hip tightly as her hands trailed over his abs and weaved into his wet dark locks. She began to tug slightly in attempt to bring him closer—not that that was really possibly, considering they were chest to chest. The heat and speed grew as they moved against each other desperately. Everything they had was poured into that kiss—their pain, grief, frustration, anger, hope, love—quite frankly, it was a long time coming given that they had been dancing around each other for far too long.

Strider gently bit at her lip, causing a moan to come from (Y/N)’s throat. He took this as an opportunity and slipped his tongue into her mouth. She met him with the same action as they begun to battle for dominance. Aragorn’s hand begun to trail upwards until he carefully cupped one of her breasts. Her nerves immediately picked up the touch for she gasped and her knees buckled. The male ranger chuckled lightly against her mouth as he used his other arm to support her ass—groping it as he did. Her leg then slid up and wrapped around his waist. Strider continued to knead her breast—feeling the perfect plumpness of it—as he plastered kisses down her jawline and neck. Highly offensive curse words tumbled from her lips when he started to suck lightly on her skin.

“Fuck, Strider.“ She moaned, tugging on his hair again.

Who knows how far the two would have gone if Aragorn didn’t loose his footing. But he did, and they both tumbled into the hot water.

(Y/N) came up gasping for breath and Aragorn was soon to follow.

“You moron!” She exclaimed.

A sheepish grin crossed his face, but he soon joined her giggles with his roaring laughter.


End file.
